The Philosophy of Lotus Root Cakes

Old Wang opened a lotus root cake shop in an urban village. It was small, just a fryer and two tables. His lotus root cakes were crispy and delicious, famous far and wide. Every evening, a long queue formed outside the shop, filled with the warmth of everyday life.

Old Wang was a bit stubborn. He insisted on using fresh lotus root of the day, and meticulously followed the batter ratio. The resulting lotus root cakes were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. One bite was a symphony of the sweet taste of lotus root and the aroma of flour, a taste of happiness.

Later, the urban village was renovated, and Old Wang's shop was included in the demolition area. Old Wang was reluctant, but he knew he couldn't fight against the tide. He took the compensation and rented a small shop nearby to reopen.

On the day the new shop opened, Old Wang specially fried an extra batch of lotus root cakes and gave them to the neighbors for free. Everyone tasted them and said the taste was the same, but something was missing. Old Wang himself also felt that the new shop lacked a bit of human touch.

Soon after, a chain catering group took a fancy to Old Wang's lotus root cakes and sent people to discuss cooperation. The conditions they offered were very attractive: unified store decoration, unified recipes, unified management, and turning "Old Wang Lotus Root Cakes" into a national chain brand. As soon as Old Wang heard this, he refused. He felt that lotus root cakes were something that needed a bit of the warmth of everyday life and a bit of human touch. Turning it into a chain was no different from eating fast food.

The people from the catering group didn't give up and came to Old Wang again. This time, they offered him a sky-high price and promised him shares, and to make him a technical consultant. Old Wang remained unmoved. He only said, "I fry lotus root cakes to make everyone happy, not to make money."

The people from the catering group left, and as they left, they said something that Old Wang didn't quite understand: "Times have changed, Old Wang, you can't grow big this way."

After that, Old Wang's business got worse and worse. After all, the new shop didn't have the same warmth as the old one. Many old customers felt that although the taste hadn't changed, the feeling was different.

A new lotus root cake shop opened across the street. It was luxuriously decorated and even had a celebrity endorsement. Although the taste of that shop's lotus root cakes was far inferior to Old Wang's, it won out with its exquisite packaging and various gimmicks, and quickly became a popular internet sensation. Many people came to check in, queue up, and post on social media.

Old Wang still got up early every morning, carefully selected fresh lotus roots, mixed the batter, and fried his lotus root cakes. However, the queue in front of his shop was getting shorter and shorter, and many times he couldn't even sell a few portions in a day.

One day, a young man came to Old Wang's shop. He ordered a lotus root cake, tasted it, and then asked Old Wang: "Grandpa, your lotus root cake tastes really good, but why don't you do some marketing? In this day and age, even good wine needs to be advertised."

Old Wang smiled and said, "My lotus root cake isn't wine, it's food, it fills your belly. As for marketing, I'm an old man, I don't understand it, and I don't have the heart to do it."

The young man shook his head, feeling that Old Wang was too stubborn.

Later, that popular internet lotus root cake shop was exposed for food safety issues and closed down overnight. And Old Wang's small shop was still there, quietly frying his lotus root cakes. However, there were still very few customers in front of the shop.

One day, Old Wang fried a pot of lotus root cakes as usual. Just as he was about to close up, a man in a suit came in. The man looked at the menu and ordered a lotus root cake. He took a bite, his eyes lit up, and said, "Grandpa, your lotus root cake tastes really good."

Old Wang smiled and said, "If it's good, eat some more."

The man took two more bites, then put down his chopsticks and said to Old Wang, "Grandpa, do you remember me? I'm from the catering group that came to talk to you about cooperation before."

Old Wang nodded and said, "I remember, what's the matter?"

The man smiled, took out a contract from his briefcase, and said, "Grandpa, our group wants to talk to you about cooperation again. This time, we don't require you to change the recipe, nor do we require you to have unified decoration. We just want to use your name to open a shop."

Old Wang was stunned for a moment and asked in confusion, "What does that mean?"

The man smiled and said, "Grandpa, now everyone doesn't eat lotus root cakes anymore, they've switched to eating nostalgia. Your lotus root cakes are nostalgia."

Old Wang looked at the contract, and the words "Old Wang Nostalgic Lotus Root Cakes" on it were particularly glaring. He suddenly felt that the lotus root cake in his hand seemed to have lost its original taste.

He sighed, tore the contract in half, and threw it into the trash. Then, he closed the shop door and returned to his small room.

The next day, Old Wang's shop did not open. People saw a note on the shop door, which read:

"Lotus root cakes are not nostalgia, they are life."

And no one knew where Old Wang had gone. Only this empty little shop was left, looking particularly lonely in the sunset.